Morgan slams the door of his Mustang shut, birds scattering from the tree overlooking the curb. Taylor exits from the passenger's side, eyeing the O'Neil residence.

She glances over at Morgan with a worried expression, still not able to fully grasp the idea that Garrett could possibly be involved in this. There's just no way. She feels the dew from the blades of grass brushing against her calves as they cut through the overgrown yard, approaching the house.

Stopping at the steps, she second guesses coming here in the first place as Morgan passes her to walk up to the wooden deck. He knocks on the door without hesitation.

Gazing around at the unkempt yard, she continues to linger in front of the steps. It looks like someone hasn't been here in a few weeks, if not longer.

"Hello?" Morgan leans into the door as he bangs on it again. "Garrett, you in there?"

"Morgan, I don't think anyone is here."

"They have to be. Not like she can just take him to the mall to go shopping." He steps down from the porch and, although the thought of Garrett being the one behind the murders has crossed his mind, he still doesn't believe that he's physically capable of doing it. But he could have had help. "I'm going to check the back of the house."

Taylor's eyes widen and she shakes her head reluctantly. "Are you crazy? We can't break into his house!"

"Chill. Who said anything about breaking in? I'm just going to check the windows."

She glares at him, not sure whether or not to believe him. She wouldn't put it past her brother to kick in a door and barge into someone's home. "Okay. Just hurry."

Nodding, he turns around to cut back through the tall grass, scaling the front wall of the house, before turning the corner to slip out of view.

Sighing, she turns back to look at the front door. She regretted coming here the second she saw the house through the windshield as Morgan turned down the street. Looking down at the wooden planks on the porch, she notices a deep scratch etched into the wood that leads all the way to the door.

Morgan steps on a weed and looks around the small backyard in disbelief. The grass is even taller than in the front and numerous amounts of junk are scattered throughout the property, resembling much of a scrap yard.

He turns around back to the house and spots a window near the kitchen in which, conveniently enough, the blinds were left open. Peering inside, he sees nothing but the stove and the small island centered in the middle of the kitchen. He is able to make out a glimpse of the hallway, recognizing which direction Garrett's room is, and pulls away from the window.

Walking back the way he came, he wraps around back to the side of the house and approaches another window he believes to be Garrett's. He leans against the glass, the room much more dim lit than the other, and scans the darkness.

Taylor walks up the steps and crouches down to get a better look of the scratches, examining the wood beneath her feet. She notices what looks like a fingernail sticking out from the scraping and leans further down to get a better look at it.

She doesn't notice as a tall figure moves toward her from behind. A hand quickly reaches out to grab her shoulder.

Still gazing in through the window, Morgan thinks he sees something sticking out from the side of the bed. He wipes at dust on the window to get a clearer look, just as—

He hears a short scream in the distance, coming from the front of the house.

"Taylor!" He jumps away from the window and bolts toward the front yard, quickly running around back to the porch. He stops, taking a sigh of relief, as he sees Sheriff Martinez standing in front of Taylor.

"Sorry." Taylor takes a deep breath, staring wide-eyed at Martinez as if he had caught her red-handed. "You scared me."

"Taylor, what are you doing here?" Martinez gets straight to the point. He's normally more lenient toward Taylor, as she used to come around his house a lot when she was younger to visit Millie.

Before Taylor can respond, Morgan steps between the two. "We're here visiting a friend. Is that a crime, sheriff?"

Martinez glares over at him, clearly not in the mood to put up with his shit. Ignoring him, he turns back to Taylor. "Is O'Neil home?"

"Garrett? We tried knocking but no answer. He's probably asleep or something." She looks over at Morgan nervously.

"What about the nurse, Hannah Ellis? Have you seen her?"

"Nope." Morgan flashes an obviously fake smile, again answering a question that was not directed at him. It's clear he's not very fond of law enforcement, and the feeling is definitely mutual. "Well, we were just about to get going. Is there anything else we can answer for you, sheriff?"

"That will be all." Martinez says, watching as the two hurriedly cut back through the grass over to Morgan's car. Taylor makes a quick glance back at the porch and locks eyes with Martinez. He shoots her a slight smirk, as if knowing something is up. "You kids stay out of trouble."

Taylor, still staring back at him, nods as she open the passenger's door to get inside the car.

"Aye aye, captain." Morgan says sarcastically, slamming his shut as he climbs into the driver's seat. He turns to face Taylor.

"Morgan, I saw something really strange on the porch. It looked like something, or somebody, scratched at the wood."

"You saw the yard. Clearly upkeep of the house was the least of their concerns." He turns the keys, starting the ignition. His phone buzzes from the cup holder and he picks it up, rolling his eyes as he reads a text from Kandice.

'party tonight!' it reads with a cluster of emojis, most of which are kisses and hearts.

Muttering, Morgan types aggressively on his phone's keyboard. "Seriously?"

Martinez turns back to the house as he walks up the steps, not noticing the scratches on the wooden boards. He bangs heavily on the door with a clenched fist and takes a step back. "Police. Anybody home?"

He backs up even more, watching the windows to see if the curtains move. Nobody appears to be inside. He reaches down and holds onto a button on the radio that is clipped to his shoulder strap. "We got a 10-57 at the O'Neil residence. Ms. Ellis still hasn't responded to the hospital's calls and appears not to be at the house."

In the window Morgan was looking through just moments before, flies swarm around the dry blood on Garrett's tangled sheets. Next to one of the legs of the bed, a broken syringe lies on the floor.

♫ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ғɪʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғɪʀᴇ / ᴍɪɴᴅʏ sᴍɪᴛʜ ♫